Harry Potter and The Dark Age of Dimitar Gaunt
by LynxWild
Summary: With the Potter’s gone, The ministry remodelled to the Dark Lords beliefs and Hogwarts under the control of Death Eaters how will Dumbledore and his Order survive in the Dark Age. And who is Dimitar Gaunt? M for Later Chaps.
1. That Fateful Night

**Harry Potter and The Dark Age of Dimitar Gaunt**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters that appear in both the HP series and my fanfic. Everything recognisable between the my story and the HP series belongs to JK Rowling.

**Summary:** Peter Pettigrew did not lead Voldemort to Godrics Hollow on that All Hallows Eve, instead he lead a band of death eaters. Now with the Potter's gone, The ministry remodelled to the Dark Lords beliefs and Hogwarts under the control of Death Eaters how will Dumbledore and his Order survive in the Dark Age. And who is Dimitar Gaunt?

**Chapter One: That Fateful Night.**

Emerald Green eyes starred down at the small bundle laying innocently atop a silk baby mat, at just over a year old young Harry Potter was showing a great resemblance to his father in everything except his eyes. Harry shared his mothers startling green eyes. Lily Potter's thin ruby lips curled into an easy smile as she watched her son play. He truly was a handsome little boy, everything about him was perfect and pure. These thoughts however caused Lily to develop a crestfallen look upon her beautiful features, her lips parted slightly and a sigh escaped them. Why did it have to be her son, why did it have to be her Harry that was given such a burden. Though she knew it was wrong to think it, the young redhead often dreamed about other children taking Harry's place just so she could offer her child a normal life. "You don't even know do you?" she spoke softly more to herself than Harry. Of course he didn't know what his life was to become, and even if by some miracle he had worked out how special a boy he was it was inconceivable to think he would be able to understand his predicament. Bending down Lily stretched out her hand and softly caressed her hand against Harry's smooth cheek. He turned to look at his mother, a wide smile threatening to split his face in half. Just by looking at him and the smile he held had caused all of Lily's worry to diminish.

Watery brown eyes starred at the happy seen through the glass window. There was no other way, he knew that in fact he had begged the Dark Lord to show the family mercy. The reaction he received was to be expected. Ruby Red eyes had gleamed in the dark room as his masters cold voice hissed out the spell for the torture curse. Inside his mind, Peter Pettigrew knew that if it wasn't for the fact that he was needed, the Dark Lord would have killed him there and then. The thought caused a chilling shiver to run up his curved spine. "Enough, its time Wormtail" a cold voice spoke from behind the man. Turning every so slightly as to see who had spoken Peter starred fearfully into a white mask. Cold uncaring grey eyes peered from behind the masks eyeholes. Pettigrew recoiled slightly as he looked passed the black robed figure, taking extra care to avoid looking back at the white mask. Unfortunately for Peter, behind the man who had spoken stood 4 other people garbed exactly the same.

A shrill whimper broke free from Peter's mouth earning him several hard glares and more than one snort of disgust. The figure leading the group stretched out his arm and grabbed a hold of Peter's clothes, and with a sharp tug threw the rat like man towards the house's front door. There was a hushed round of sniggering and jaunts at the rats expense. Slowly Peter raised himself from the ground and reached for the door handle, as the Potter's secret keeper and trusted friend, he had been trusted with a key to the house. Placing the key within the lock, and twisting the handle the door to Godrics Hollow slowly pushed open. The air outside the house filled with excitement from the robed men, this was it, this was the end of the great Potter family.

Taking a few tentative steps into the house Peter peaked his head through the doorway leading from the hall into the living room. His breath hitched in his dry throat at what he was seeing. Lily was bent down before her child, her beautiful form was stunning to say the least and her flaming red hair gave her an exotic look. A loud wheeze from Peter alerted the rooms occupants to his presence. Lily jumped slightly at hearing a noise from behind her, swiftly gripping hold of her wand she turned sharply and raised the wooden wand to the intruder. For half a second she remained in her position, crouched and wand raised before her mind registered that it was Peter standing before her. Little by little she lowered her wand before placing it back inside of her trouser pocket. Her eyes glistened and shone in the rooms light as she smiled at Peter. "You gave me a fright Pete," Her soft voice halted briefly as she took in her friends appearance. "You ok, you look flustered." This was an understatement, Peter did not look flustered he looked down right rotten. Pale skin, Watery eyes and shaking. The noise of Harry gurgling caused Lily Potter to turn away from Peter. At the doorway Pettigrew fought to keep tears out of his eyes, it wasn't suppose to be like this, Lily was kind to him, she didn't look down on him and treated him fairly. "L-Lils, w-wheres J-James?" he spoke shakily, and with no small amount of trepidation. Without turning away from Harry, Lily told him about how James had been suffering from a headache and had taken a dreamless sleep potion and gone for a sleep. "I-I ssee," he paused and inhaled a weak breath. "I-I aam S-so sorry." The young witch furrowed her brow at Peter's words, what did he have to be sorry for, it wasn't his fault that James wasn't feeling well. Several loud shuffles caused Lily to twist her body around to face Peter, only to fall into a pair of cold grey eyes behind a white mask. A gasp was all Lily had time for before a bright green light filled her vision, the last two words she heard being "Avada Kedavra." Her body fell limp to the floor, the red streams of hair flowing gently in the air, even brushing against Harry's face before settling against her own face and never moving again. Loud pounding on the stairs alerted the death eater that James Potter had also been disposed off, the lack of a noises indicated that he had definitely been asleep, a sleep he would never wake from. Taking no more than 4 steps forwards, the masked wizard briskly pulled the young child from the ground, and with a nod towards his companions and then at Peter, disappeared from the room with a loud crack. Pettigrew had long since stopped struggling against his tears allowing them o cascade down his face. His eyes never left Lily's unmoving body until he felt several hard hands tighten around his arms. Looking up he saw two sets of gleaming eyes starring at him with nothing more than disgust. His next whimper and sob was drowned out by the sound of several loud cracks. The next second the room and the house was empty, save for the lifeless bodies of Lily and James Potter.

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Deep scarlet eyes turned towards the sleeping child that was curled up within Crabbe's arms. The man look anything but comfortable, something that Bellatrix was taking great pleasure in. Voldemort spent several moments just looking at the baby boy, drinking in his every detail with emotionless eyes. From the boy's appearance alone there was nothing special however Lord Voldemort was not a simpleton, he had long ago learned how to read a persons magical prowess. Normally a year old child would have a very insignificant amount of power, if any at all, But this boy, Harry Potter had a power within him that was anything but insignificant. The plan had been simple, Voldemort had ordered Wormtail to lead a group of his death eaters to the Potter's house, they were to kill the Potter's and bring him the child that had been destined to defeat him. Is thin lips curled into a chilling smile that caused his inner circle to flinch, even for them his most devoted followers that smile was not normal. However it remained for only an instant as the Dark Lord thought about the second half of his plan, which consisted of a single step, Kill the boy as soon as he is brought into the room. For some reason Voldemort had not been able to finish the boy off. Instead he had become transfixed with the power within the small sleeping child. Minutes past in silence, nobody dared speak. The sound that followed was a noise that would haunts the death eaters for the rest of their lives. The Dark Lord erupted into a high pitched cold laugh, it was a sound that came from horror stories that they had been told as small children.

Voldemort did not care that his servants were seeing his lack of control, this one time he would allow it, this once he didn't care after all he had just concocted the greatest plan of his reign. This child, a child born to a prophecy that depicted his downfall would do the exact opposite, instead of being a weapon for the light side, a soldier for Dumbledore he would be the sharpest sword that the Dark Side possessed and the mightiest shield to every protect Voldemort. There was only two things that could ever stop his plan coming to fruition, and if his followers had done their job properly, there would only be one. Turning his sight from the boy to his followers many of them cowered slightly, But it was Lucius that reacted most as it was him that the Dark Lord's eyes rested upon. "Lucius, are they dead?," his voice was a quiet hiss that echoed throughout the great hall. Lucius Malfoy, the death eater who had lead the attack on Godrics Hollow, and the death eater to kill Lily Potter did not need for his master to clarify his question. The blonde stood up tall and proud, before bending his back slightly into a bow. "Yes m'Lord James Potter was killed whilst he slept, and I killed the Mudblood myself." Lucius's voice held a certain amount of pride, and why shouldn't it, he was an inner circle death eater, and one of his master most trusted. The fact that he had just ended the life of a blood traitor and a Mudblood who had aided in thwarting their plans on no less than 3 occasions did nothing to help his arrogance.

Voldemort nodded his head slightly in approval, before raising his wand and aiming it at his followers, "Obliviate" he hissed out before a bright light filled the room. As soon as the light died away Voldemort was greeted by the confused looks of his inner circle, Only Lucius and Bellatrix seemed to be unaffected, and of course the whimpering Peter Pettigrew who was curled up on the floor.

"Crabbe, pass my child over to Bellatrix and then all but Lucius and Bella, get out." It took a moment but then a look of understanding spread over most of his inner circle, as though there was no doubt in their mind that Crabbe was indeed holding the Dark Heir. Voldemort had implanted several fake memories into their minds. As far as his followers were concerned he had just introduced them to his heir and their prince. Only Lucius, Bellatrix and Peter had been left unaffected and two of them held looks of confusion.

Bellatrix Lestrange hesitantly accepted the child from Crabbe before turning to look at her master, if she wasn't so afraid of his reaction she would have voiced her question. "The boy has an astonishing amount of raw magic within him, with my guidance he will be our greatest achievement. Without the Potter's around, and with everyone else believing him to be dead, nobody can interfere." He spoke with a soft authorities voice that sounded like a teacher reprimanding a mischievous student. But it was enough to cause understanding to flow into His two servants minds. Without any warning a bright flash of green filled their vision, and once it had faded the whimpering form of Peter Pettigrew was dead. "I will raise the boy, however at a later date you will introduce your children to him, after all how can a Prince rule over subject unless he has subject to rule." Bella and Lucius turned to each other and then to their Lord, this would be good for them if their children could become associated with the Dark Lords 'adopted' son then their families would benefit greatly. With that thought in mind Malfoy turned back to the child in Bella's arm and bowed his head slightly, "To the Dark Prince" he whispered just loud enough for all the rooms occupants to hear. Bella repeated his words causing the Pale face of Lord Voldemort to regain its sinister smile. Only this time neither death eater flinched as they were to busy looking at the form of Harry James Potter.

"Dimitar Gaunt" was the only words that echoed through the hall as they looked at the child, whom had now been 'christened' with a new name.

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5 years later

Order of the Phoenix Headquarters, Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

The aged form of Albus Dumbledore slouched within his high cushioned chair, It had been 2 long years since he had been removed from Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 3 dark years since Lord Voldemort had taken hold of the British Ministry and a year since the seemingly unbeatable Lord Voldemort had openly attacked France, Germany and Spain. Most of these countries had ministry's as corrupt as the British and so in the short year of attacks all three countries were in a similar situation to Great Britain. The fact that Voldemort had taken a hold of the smaller European countries by uniting all of their Dark Lords under him had only added to the fear that the name Voldemort encouraged.

Everything had gone wrong after that fateful Halloween night, he had been unable to reach Godrics Hollow in time to save the Potter family, Voldemort had prepared for his interference and had placed his own wards up around the house stopping Dumbledore and the order from getting into the premises.

Ever since then the wizarding world had heard about the prophecy and had started to blame Dumbledore for loosing their saviour. The peoples revolt against him had left them open to Voldemort and his death eaters. Great Britain had paid dearly. The ministry was taken with little resistance and had long since been rebuilt to match Voldemort's ideals. A year after capturing the ministry Voldemort and his followers had attacked Hogwarts itself and bested the Order of the phoenix, teachers and what was left of those who rebelled against the Dark Side. The end result was that Dumbledore, and his order were forced to go into hiding whilst showing support and loyalty to the Dark Side in order to keep their families alive. As for Hogwarts itself, Dumbledore shuddered every time he thought of the ancient and most prestigious school on Europe. From what his informants had collected, All teachers who had refused to bow before Voldemort had been killed and replaced, New staff positions had been created to allow more death eaters into the school to keep it in check. The Dark Arts and Duelling had been added to the curriculum and Muggle studies had been remodelled and become a compulsory subject.

Muggle born had been removed from the school and forced into slavery to the pure blood families, and although Half bloods were allowed to attend Hogwarts, they had to have sworn loyalty to the Dark Lord before hand. His informants had also informed him that Voldemort had changed the 4 houses from the names of the founders to names of various serpents of prestige. However Dumbledore's greatest disappointment was that after the lights fall he had finally discovered the true loyalties of Severus Snape. The man had openly sided with the Death Eaters, and although to the world he appeared to be a loyal follower Dumbledore had founded a different opinion. Severus Snape was a man out for himself.

Despite the worlds current predicament, Dumbledore stilled held hope, rumours had begun 5 years ago of the Dark Lord Voldemort's heir, rumours that had quickly been proven as fact. This for the aged wizard was to much of a coincidence, Harry Potter is never found and within weeks Lord Voldemort had a son. Yes Albus Dumbledore still had hope, unfortunately his order did not share his hope. As far as they were concerned Harry Potter did died on Halloween 5 years ago, after all what chance did they have that Harry having been raised by Voldemort would willingly be their saviour. This argument Dumbledore found was sound of mind and reason. He sighed lightly, and whispered two names that he knew were the two alias for the two heroes of the two worlds. "Harry Potter," hero of the light, "Dimitar Gaunt" prince and prodigy of the dark.

**Authors Notes: This is my first Harry Potter fic, well actually its my first ever fanfic. Having read so many different fics on different shows, and stories I decided to try creating one myself. Reviews and Criticism is always appreciated especially if you can provide pointers to help better my work. I'm English and so some words I knew are spelt different to their counterparts in America and some words mean different things. So I apologise for that. Also this story has not had a beta so I apologise if my grammar and spelling goes wiry in some places. Next chapter will introduce Dimitar and some other characters.**


	2. To Let Go

**Harry Potter and The Dark Age of Dimitar Gaunt**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters that appear in both the HP series and my fanfic. Everything recognisable between the my story and the HP series belongs to JK Rowling.

**Chapter Two:** Letting go of oneself.

Motionless, that was the only word his mind could conjure to describe the corpse that laid before him. Moments before he had been circulating a long list, words such as weak, disgusting, snivelling, worthless and vulnerable had all been present in his mind. The room itself had fell into an instant quiet when the last screams left the former death eater's lips nobody desired to join their former comrade in the after life. Many of the younger death eaters stood shaking, sweat running down their faces behind those smooth masks that they had become accustomed to. Never before had they witnessed such a horrible death, the Dark Lord had not hesitated in using the darkest magic he knew. There was no doubt in any of their minds that the punishment had been as much a warning to them, as a punishment to the victim. However the most disturbing sight had not been the withering body suddenly still, nor was it the Dark Lords gleaming red eyes no it had been the sight of the small child standing besides their master. Standing tall beside the large throne that housed the infamous Dark Lord Voldemort was a small child. His features had remained impassive throughout the death eaters ordeal, never one changing into a look of shock or pity. The mere thought of this small boy being normal was absurd to the witches and wizards within the room, for they knew that a child raised by the Dark Lord to be a weapon could never be normal. A single glance into a pair of dull green eyes behind half lidded eyelids was enough to alert anybody to this fact. The sound of feet pounding on a tiled floor caused all eyes to scan the room, each set landing on the small figure one after another. A hushed intake of breath spread through the room. Nobody removed their sights from the boy as he gracefully stepped down from the raised platform that he had previously been situation upon. Every step was filled with an elegance that emphasised who the child was. Every movement he made screamed royalty. Only one set of eyes didn't hold trepidation as they looked over the youngster. Instead these eyes, these red eyes held a tinge of curiosity within them.

Voldemort remained unmoving as he watched his charge move towards the dead body. It was not the first time Dimitar Gaunt had been near a corpse, on the contrary he had been present at many people's deaths. Voldemort had decided long ago that if Dimitar was going to be as effective a weapon as he hoped then seeing death could not phase him. To his pleasure, after the first few incidents Dimitar had changed from a frightened child into a curious one before finally accepting that death was nothing more than a stage in life. Watching his son's movements caused a small smile to etched its way onto his face. How the boy had changed from that day when he had been brought into this very hall for the first time. Everything had been worth it, every plan and every event had done its job to perfection.

From the very beginning Voldemort had done nothing to benefit the boy, only himself. He had arranged for the houseveles to feed him small amounts and to make sure the food was either burning hot or freezing cold. Baths and Showers later on were to be exactly the same hot enough to burn the skin or cold enough to freeze it. There was no room for luxuries in Dimitar's life, luxuries were a weakness. He slept in a small room that was scarcely decorated and furnished. A simple bed, night stand, desk and chair along with a wardrobe for clothes was all he had. The colours had naturally been decided on a deep green and silver. Sleep was also a luxury in the Dark Lords opinion and so Dimitar was given the bare amounts to keep him going. Everything was expected of the young 'Potter' boy. That plan was that by the time he was old enough Dimitar would not feel the cold, he would not feel heat and he would not be reliant on the riches of life. Of Course those were only a few of the expectations that Voldemort had set upon his son. Another was remedying a human feeling called Pain. From the time that Dimitar could walk he had been forced into a rigorous training regime that would constantly rip apart his muscles and break his bones. Magic had been a great aid in healing these wounds and causing them to heal over stronger than ever before. However it wasn't these aspects of the training that had created the immunity to pain, they had merely been the beginning of what he would have to endure. Once he had turned 3 years old, Voldemort himself had taken charge of releasing his son from pains grasp. He had personally whipped Dimitar with the nine tails, submerged him in scolding water, locked him within ice and beaten him to within an inch of life. It was during these times that Voldemort had truly thanked the deities that he was a wizard and that magic could do so many glorious things, including heal his ward. But not all of his training had been on his external physique. Much time had gone into strengthening his skin, organs, bones and senses. Potions and herbs had been useful here. Thinking back on the past Voldemort could only think of one thing that Dimitar had every asked of him, to fix his eyesight. A task that had taken some research into but with the aid of magic and potions Voldemort had granted the small boy his wish.

His red eyes narrowed slightly as he watched Dimitar descend the platforms final step, awaiting him at the bottom was the lifeless corpse of Andrei Eckleston, an inner circle death eater that had tried to raise his position by blackmailing the Dark Lord. Or that was to say, that was what the rumours had been saying, Voldemort knew that if he was to keep his subjects in check then even a rumour had to be dealt with, painfully. Looking around the gathering of death eaters Voldemort chuckled slightly to himself at the look of fear filling his followers eyes. Many of them had children some older, some younger and some the same age as Dimitar and the thought of any of them acting so carelessly around the dead was a daunting prospect at best. However none of those children had ever endured or dreamed of enduring the lifestyle that Dimitar had. His training had not simply been physical but mentally and emotionally crippling as well. That had been the plan at least, to cripple and then do away with emotions of any sort. Naturally like all of his plans this one had also been a undeniable success.

From the time that Voldemort had discovered his charge could read, every book he had read had been about the mind and its working or about the various concepts of magic. The only exceptions had been the books that depicted why pure bloods were superior to everyone else, and how muggles did not deserve to live. Books on fighting, strategy and tactics had come much later once Dimitar had learned how to effectively use them. After all what point was there in giving him a book on spells to learn if he didn't understand how they should be used. It had been a coincidence that at the same time that Voldemort had been robbing Dimitar of the feeling of pain he had also been stealing away his other emotions of happiness, enjoyments and love. Along side these robberies the Dark Lord had noticed that because it was all his son knew, he didn't feel the hurt or unease and sadness that other people would have had they been in his place. Abuse and misery were all he knew and so that was all he considered there was to life. This revelation had caused Voldemort to become ecstatic that already at a young age Dimitar was half way to becoming the ultimate tool. Curiosity was perhaps one of the only things that Voldemort did not take from the boy. After all it was his curiosity that would allow him to progress in life. Voldemort had openly encouraged Dimitar to voice his questions and opinions, how else would he be able to learn. It was his curiosity that had allowed Voldemort to manipulate and warp his brain when speaking about death, the Dark Lord had filled his head with half truths and lies to force the boy to accept that death was not something he should fear. It was during these lessons that Voldemort would often kill people, muggles, mud bloods, blood traitors, half bloods and even his own followers to educate his son. The point of killing his supporters was to emphasise that he and now Dimitar were superior in every way. This lesson had been the hardest one to teach Dimitar but it was a lesson he learnt well and now constantly showed.

Withdrawing from his memories the self proclaimed Dark Lord watched on casually as Dimitar circled the body at his feet. There was no trace of emotion on his face, no confusion, fear, no pity, happiness or sadness. It was completely void of expression. If anything Voldemort mused that his son did look somewhat bored.

Dimitar Gaunt looked down at the figure that had lost much of its original shape, if he hadn't been present at the beginning of his father's meeting than Dimitar was sure he would never have believed that this…thing had ever been a man. Scanning the rooms occupants from behind his lidded eyes the Dark Prince began listing of his father's inner circle and their traits. 'Malfoy, manipulative, ambitious and cunning; Crabbe and Goyle, Muscles and nothing else, Bellatrix Lestrange, Loyal and mentally unstable.' He continued on like this every now and then stopping as he thought over certain individuals. However if the young prince had to choose only one word to describe every one of them it would be "weak," he whispered, however that one word echoed in the great hall allowing everyone present to hear it. Many of them shuddered at the emotion within the voice. Or was it more suitable to say lack of emotion. Despite his opinion however, Gaunt knew he was no match magically for anyone of them. At the present time his only power lied within his quick think mind, his knowledge and understanding of magic and his inability to feel. His father had once told him that before he learnt any spells he would need to become strong mentally and physically, something he had accomplished. Swiftly spinning of the heel of his foot Dimitar trained his sight onto the man that had raised him. "Father" his quiet voice was soft and soothing and yet sent chills around the death eaters. In truth the voice was far to reminiscent to that of their master's. "I would like to learn," he paused slightly to allow his words to sink in. "I would like to learn to do this." The final finished sentence shocked the rooms occupants, no child should be asking that kind of question. The boy was 6 years old and asking to learn the Dark Arts. A tingling feeling of dread filled their hearts and minds, Dimitar Gaunt would one day surpass his father. There was no doubt in any of their minds on that belief.

His small frame stood without fault, his posture was filled with power and authority and yet looked so natural. The fact that a child looking like that was actually unnatural didn't seem to bother the Dark Lord. Voldemort leant forward in his throne, allowing the rooms occupants to finally see his pale white skin framed by his black hair. If one was to describe the appearance of the Dark Lord it would be a description closer to that of a snake than a man. Although all the right features were there to suggest that he had once been a handsome man and that it was only the payments that magic had demanded of him that had cost him his looks. For a few moments nothing happened, there was no sound and no movement as everyone awaited their father's or master's response. Several minutes passed, the only suggestion that the Dark Lord had even heard his son's question was the gleam in his eyes. It took some time but finally his thin lips tightened and curved into a leer. "Very well, But we shall start from the beginning." Voldemort's words sounded like the hisses from a snake but each word was still understandable. Following his answer the dark wizard allowed himself to fall back into the shadows that encased his throne.

Around him Dimitar could hear many shocked gaps escape the death eaters, none of them had truly expected their master to agree. The young heir noted that Lucius and Bellatrix seemed to be the only ones who did not outwardly express anything. Whether that was because they had suspected this answer or because they were good actors he was not sure. Though he expected it to be the former. Fixating his gaze back on his father's eyes Dimitar gave a barely noticeable nod. With one last sweep around the gathered servants he briskly made his way towards the wall situated to the left of his father's throne. Every eyes in the room was on him as he approached the painting of a large snake coiled around a tree. Stopping once he reached the painting, he gave the beautiful creature a once over before speaking. _"Power is everything,"_ almost instantly the painting swung open to reveal a dark corridor that was decorated with the finest materials. Without even glancing back at his spectators Dimitar stepped through the opening and into the hall before the painting closed behind him.

Several of the death eaters gulped audibly, hearing the language of the serpents coming from their master was a chilling sight to behold in itself but to witness his son speaking the same language was far worse. It only continued to cement their beliefs that one day Dimitar Gaunt would rule over them, undoubtedly with an iron fist. Voldemort sneered as he watched the expressions on his followers face, they were so weak par one or two but even they would pale in comparison to Dimitar when he gets older. The entrance that his son had just used was a recently added passageway, to save time from travelling from the death eater headquarters side of the manor to the living quarters. It was the only way that wasn't rigged with traps and curses blocking pathways. However the chances that anyone would guess the password to this entrance was small. He smirked slightly, besides even if they could guess what they needed to say there was then the little task of speaking in pastletongue.

Slowly rising his form from the comfort of the cushioned throne the pale wizard made 3 swift strides forward before any of his followers had worked out he had moved. Immediately they all feel to their knees bowing in respect. Sadly it was to slow for some of them. "Crucio" his voice hissed around the room followed by the loud piercing screams of one Thorfin Rowle. The large death eater had been the last to fall to his knees and so was the first to be punished following shortly by Nott, Mcnair and Mulciber. The Carrows and Rabastan lestrange cowered under his gaze they had just barely escaped his punishment. Without so much as acknowledging the presence of those in the room Voldemort turned and followed his son through the passage blocked by the painting of a snake.

Quickly travelling the length of the corridor Tom Riddle or rather Voldemort as he was now known found himself standing at the bottom of a large flight of stairs. After so many years of living within this manor he no longer bothered to marvel at the size of the staircase nor at the fine craftsmanship that had gone into creating the railings. Instead he simply ascended the steps one at a time, his robes gliding behind him. Upon reaching the top of the stairs the Dark Lord was met by a large lounge that acted as a lobby to the various pathways that could be taken from here on. Navigating the correct halls with expertise Voldemort was not pressed to find the room he was searching for. The door to the room had been left open, causing the wizard to smirk. Dimitar knew him to well and was aware of his habits. Stepping through the doorway his red eyes glided throughout the small room. It was exactly the same now as it had been 5 years ago. The only difference being that now Dimitar sat at the work table reading through various passages of different books. Taking a step forward his voice filtered through his lips and into the small enclosure. "We will begin your training, at dawn." The young raven-haired boy turned to look at Voldemort and inclined his head slightly to show his understanding. Feeling no need to remain in the room Slytherin's heir, his eldest heir turned to leave the room. However he stopped in the doorway. "We will be upping your other training, as a payment for accepting your request," with that he left the room leaving his son to continue his studies. Voldemort already knew how he would raise his son's training to a new level. There was another 2 ways in which he could rid his son of feelings or at least block them out. Occlumancy, the art of defending ones mind would help with stopping emotions from seeing through. As for creating an immunity to pain, he could think of only one curse to do it. 'The Cruciatus' he thought to himself.

**A/N: Hey, I know I said that I would be introducing some other characters this chapter but I decided that perhaps it was better to provide a reason as to why Dimitar will act the way he does. In later chaps I will use flashbacks to help unravel the past. But I hope this will do for now. Next chapter will be a time skip for 2 years and will introduce Dimitar to the children of some death eaters. R/R**


	3. Bow to the Prince

**Harry Potter and The Dark Age of Dimitar Gaunt**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters that appear in both the HP series and my fanfic. Everything recognisable between the my story and the HP series belongs to JK Rowling.

**Chapter Three:** Bow to a prince

It is the belief of some that the weather and sky relates directly to the going on in the world. An example being the deep red sunrise as a result to bloodshed the night before, the calm ocean blue sky depicting a peaceful world and the dark storm clouds as a word in turmoil. Unfortunately in a world filled with magic nothing was ever as it appeared to be. For on this particular morning the sky was a clear blue, marred only by the odd flock of birds gliding through the vast spaces. The small breeze stroking the grass and rippling the near by streams. The sounds of running water and birds chirping only added to the picturesque scene of a world at peace. But for one boy, this serene world was seen for what it really was. A mask, an illusion to cover up the truth. For in truth the world at least in the wizarding community was in peril.

Green eyes scanned the area with an impassive stare. The random animals passing through the grass seemed to freeze immediately upon locking their own eyes with his. Such emptiness was not suppose to be in a Childs gaze. Dimitar Gaunt was a lonely child, he had never known love, affections and friendship. Those who knew him best doubted he even understood the mere concepts behind those ideas. He was currently sitting with his back against a large rock, surrounded by many texts and scrolls. Each text detailed a new spell, or a newly discovered theory on core magic.

In his hand, swirling lightly between two spidery fingers was his wand. Every now and then sparks would erupt from its tip, aiming for the poor unsuspecting animals near by. Following each array of sparks was a mixture of shrill screams and dull thumps indicting a body collapsing. Dimitar was lost within his thoughts, he had just returned from a meeting with his father. A meeting that had involved his father and one or two death eaters training him to block out pain. He honestly couldn't understand why they still insisted upon this training, it had been two years since they started and had only taken a year for the pain to stop.

According to his understanding on the human body his nerves had most likely been destroyed long ago. Though he had been told by his father that that wasn't necessarily the case. It could be that his body simply adapted to the pain. For Dimitar either answer was suitable and acceptable but not for his 'family' they had decided that there would be no stopping until his nerves no longer reacted. In other words they would continue to train him until his nervous system shut down.

However that wasn't what was dwelling in the confinements of his mind, no it was the second part of the meeting that had him thinking. His father, whom most knew as the dark Lord had just told him that he would be meeting other children. The offspring of the most loyal and faithful death eaters would be welcomed into the manor for the sole purpose of befriending him. Or rather, for the sole purpose of bowing before him. One of his first lessons had been that friends were a hindrance and only those who submitted to him were of any use in life.

Several hours had passed since that meeting, the time now reading 2:30 in the after noon and from what he had been told that meant his guests had just arrived. Dimitar doubted that they would come find him first, he understood that they didn't even know he existed. Well they hadn't meant to know. But with people like Lucius and Bellatrix who lived to be his father's most favoured their children had more than likely been taught to worship him.

Hiding his face back behind his books the young 8 year old boy delved deeper into his studies. Falling gracefully into a chapter on the dark arts when duelling. The minutes passed by with him becoming more engrossed by the aspects of duelling and soon the pendulum in the clock tower was sounding. Alerting him to the new hour. The pendulum was not the only thing he could hear, the dulcet tones were accompanied by the sound of pitched screams, laughter and unrestricted chatter. Turning his neck slightly so as to get a better view, Dimitar encased each and every figure with his eyes.

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"Hey, Oi that's not fair" screeched a small girl with raven black hair. Her face was flushed and her cheeks in a pout. Around her the others cheered and laughed at the girl's displeasure. She was presently laying on her back, covered in dirt having just rolled down the hills. Just ahead of her lay another child, a small boy with sleek blonde hair and a pale pointed face. Quickly jumping to her feet when she saw him moving the young girl tackled the boy to the ground once again. Their bodies entangling and rolling down yet another hill. The small group that had been laughing quickly chasing after them.

As the tangled couple came to a stop they parted instantly, jumping to their feet and away from each other. Both with flustered looks set on their faces. Though neither could suppress the splitting grins they held, nor could they swallow the laughter forcing its way out of them. As the rest of their contingent caught up with them, they were both engulfed in hugs and laughter. A contagious laughter that forced any annoyance away from the two.

"Wow"

"that was so cool"

"Wanna go again?"

The two formerly rolling kids burst into an uncontrollable fit of giggles, lapping up the admiration that was being sent their way. "Yeah, Beatrice you want to go again" the blonde haired boy said with a cocky air in his voice. "I would love to beat you again" he said confidently while puffing out his chest. The girl snarled angrily and spat at his feet. "I could beat you anytime Draco, I chose to let you win" she huffed. The group lapsed back into laughter as their alphas began squabbling. Just as they always did when it came to competing against each other.

As the group dived into random talks they unconsciously descended the hill they had been on. Not one of them noticing the dark haired boy just below them. His cold eyes burning holes into their bodies. Not one noticing that was until it was to late. On instinct everyone within the group froze, a sense of dread and foreboding rising up their spines as fear settled deep in the heart. Several heart beats passed by before Draco and Beatrice regained enough thought to search out for the cause of their sudden unease. Moments later the rest were also able to control themselves again. Though a common trait for each of them was the shivers running the length of their backs.

It didn't take them long before they saw the frame of a boy at the hills bottom. He was sitting straight back against a rock sticking out of the ground. From their location it looked eerily similar to a throne. Of course they all knew that no child could use that much magic, yet. Standing still for a moment, listening to their hearts beat rapidly against their chests they look at him. His eyes, so blank and emotionless were what unnerved them the most.

Stepping down the hill with small tentative steps, courage began to build within them as they moved. Any thought of danger dispersing and evaporating into the air. As they approached the boy, several of the boys within the group began smirking and puffing out their chests. As a show of pride and power. Out of the entire group only two realised who was sitting before them. Two sets of eyes widened, and two breaths hitched in throats causing synchronised gasps to escape them. The others swirled about on their feet, asking questions and sharing concerned looks. Never before had their 'leader's shown this reaction to another boy.

Neither Draco nor Beatrice were able to answer the questions being directed at them. The only person that mattered to them right now was, him. Their parents had spoke constantly about him. The Dark Prince, the Dark Lord's son and heir. He was to become the ultimate weapon that would lead the Pure bloods to victory. He was their future Lord and master. If the feeling that had fallen over them wasn't enough to give that away, then his appearance certainly did.

Pale skin, High cheek bones that all pure bloods held and a strong prominent chin. His body was about the average height but he seemed to be more built than a normal boy. As if he had been trained from a young age. His every feature screamed aristocrat and royalty. Long black silky hair, cascaded down to his mid back, the fringe falling onto his face shadowing his eyes. Those eyes that held nothing, a void of emptiness. Those were the feature that their parents had described and warned them about.

The loud shouts from their friends snapped them back to reality. Pulling them back from their thoughts. For Draco those thoughts included, how to befriend the prince. After all being a close personal friend to the prince guaranteed a position of power later on. While for Beatrice the thought of marriage was prominent. Her mother and father had been praising the dark lord's son. And on more than once occasion told Beatrice that she and Dimitar were to be betrothed. They each took a glance at the friends surrounding them, smiling slightly to ease away the panicked looks they were giving.

It was Draco that first calmed his nerves and took a step forward, his head held high, lips fixed in a welcoming smile and hand outstretched. "Dimitar gaunt, I'm Draco Malf-urgh" Draco's words ended abruptly and turned into chokes. His entire body was shaking, his eyes widened considerably in fear. His skin was quickly turning blue from lack of oxygen as he fell to his knees. The other children began screaming and running around pointlessly, only Beatrice remained still. Frozen in place. In her mind she couldn't believe what Draco had just done, surely like her he had been taught to always respect the prince. Yet he still acted like his usual self. She shook herself before throwing her body to the ground at Dimitar's feet. Her lips pressed tightly against his shoes. Everyone around stopped, Draco falling to the ground as the pressure in his chest ended.

"M-m-my Pp-Prince," Beatrice said softly, trying to hide her stutter though failing miserably. Her eyes never left the ground, she dared not look up for fear of retribution. "Please forgive him, forgive us all." Her voice wavered slightly but her rushing words had hidden the traces of stutter.

Dimitar starred insipidly between the shaking boy, begging girl and their terrified group. It had been a natural impulse to react to the boy's words. Power meant everything, and the best way to control others was through that power. This boy, whom looked remarkably like Lucius Malfoy had acted like his equal, and that just wouldn't do. Ever since he could remember his father had taught him that nobody was his equal and that only Voldemort himself was his superior. As such everyone else was beneath him, and needed to act as such. If that meant he had to instil fear into them, then so be it.

With a swift brutal kick the girl was sent flying backwards, her body hitting against the ground hard. Eliciting a cry of pain from her and shock and anger from everyone else. Just as the boys who had followed Draco were about to attack Dimitar, Draco's strangled cry reached them. Startling each and everyone of them with its shaking. "S-ssStop, d-ddont move." He spoke fearfully, as he slowly crawled forwards, copying Beatrice's earlier actions of kissing Dimitar's shoes.

"Please forgive us my prince, we did not realise, and I beg your forgiveness for my rudeness" Draco stammered before forcing his head into a bow. His nose touching the dirt covered ground. Dimitar showed no outward reaction to the boy's pleas and turned his attention to the others. Beatrice had already returned to her bow. Though she did notice Dimitar's look at her companions. Braving the consequences she crawled forward slightly. Coughing gently to gain her prince's attention.

"If I may, my Prince." She paused briefly as if waiting for a response and upon realising she would receive none continued with her speech. "These are, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle and Theodore Nott, sire" with each name she nodded at the said person. Having yet to be punished she swallowed the lump in her throat and ploughed on. "P-ppPansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis and Millicent Bulstrode." Beatrice cast a quick glance at Draco catching his eye, though she was still filled with fear she smirked. As it stood she seemed to have the upper hand out of the two of them. Based on the fact she wasn't choking.

Inclining her head in Draco's direction she snarled before kissing Dimitar's robes. Not caring if she looked to be grovelling. "His Draco Malfoy, my Prince and I'm, Beatrice Lestrange" She spoke more proudly towards the end. As her words continued to escape her Beatrice seemed to become slightly more comfortable in Dimitar's presence. She could feel his power and felt secure in it, years of praising the prince from her parents and this first hand experience, was beginning to form a fanatic streak within Beatrice. The admiration for Dimitar visible in her eyes.

Dimitar Gaunt began to observe each of these new faces, they all held the expression he knew to be fear but something was different within the lead girl's. Beatrice as she had introduced herself as. The look within her eyes he had seen before. He had spent much time with Bellatrix Lestrange and so had become accustomed to her admiration and devotion to his father. The look Beatrice was giving him was very similar to her mothers. A final sweep over their faces and Dimitar had began to move away from the 'future' death eaters. His robes swept behind him, causing him to look majestic and every bit the Prince he was. As he left he locked eyes with each and every one of his acquaintances. Sending chills through their bodies.

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Far above them, inside one of the many towers that the manor was made up off a large contingent of witches and wizards watched the groups confrontation. Many of the masked followers laughed and jeered at the scene they witnessed. It wasn't often that so many of the inner circle would express such fear. And as the children below belonged to the members of the inner circle their fears were justified. None more so than the dread filling Lucius Malfoy. His eyes darted back and forth from his son's down trodden body to his master. The dark Lord's cold sneer and crimson eyes dared him to make a comment, promising much pain if he tried to interfere. Bellatrix on the other hand, having gotten over her initial trepidation was her usual giddy and bouncy self. Her daughter had made a reasonable first impression, and from Beatrice's actions seemed to take a liking to Dimitar.

Bellatrix sighed, now her family would truly be honoured above the others. Not to mention she had one up on Lucius.

Lord Voldemort smiled cruelly as he witness the events unfold below. Dimitar had shaped up to be everything he had wanted and then some. His son's progress with magic was phenomenal and his talent in the dark Arts was completely unexpected having been born from such light wizards. But then again Voldemort understood the Dark Arts, he knew that everyone could use them it they were willing. Dumbledore's nonsense on having to be born with the power was nonsense, propaganda to spread disdain for the true art of magic. What's more than that is that Dimitar had acted exactly the way he planned towards the other children. He had immediately put Draco the former alpha male in his place, followed by the alpha female. Firmly establishing his new position as the head. Beatrice's more than willing submission only solidified that position. Glancing over at Bella he smirked, Beatrice was the complete image of her mother. Which meant he knew exactly how to work the girl into his plans.

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Walking slowly back up the hill Dimitar stopped abruptly when he was within a reasonable distance of the clock tower. His empty green eyes locked onto the windows surrounding the clock face. As clear as day his father father's face, his red eyes could be seen. The gathering of masked figures standing behind him just as visible. Dimitar stood still for a moment, simply starring up at his father before briskly walking away.

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The nonchalant attitude he showed was enough to scare many of the watching death eaters. The boy had no fear, and so was not prohibited by human nature. Never before had they seen someone simply turn their backs on the dark lord. Yet Dimitar the boy who was hit with more crucios than the entire death eater populace was able to simply ignore the Dark lords presence. But that wasn't what really scarred them it was the knowledge that if he had no fear towards the dark Lord, then he was truly an inhuman creature with no limitations. That thought frightened them. Though only a select few understood why. For if he didn't fear the Dark Lord, he wouldn't fear Dumbledore or the ministry, Azkaban or the dementors and if he didn't fear them what was stopping him from killing without hesitation. They understood that as he grew older, and his powers developed their prince, would shake the foundations of the world. It would be through his will that this war would be decided, and they prayed that they were on his side when judgement day arrived.

**A/N: Hey, Sorry its been awhile, but school and stuff comes first unfortunately, anyways I tried to make the paragraphs easier to read and what not. I don't think this was a great chapter but I hope it at least sheds some light on how dimitar will act around others later on. I will try and post another chapter soon and as always R/R**


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